


M32 Violet Soft Black

by rachhell



Series: south park drabble bomb [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, High School, One-Sided Attraction, POV Lesbian Character, South Park Drabble Bomb, Teen Angst, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-04 17:31:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12173502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachhell/pseuds/rachhell
Summary: Bebe dyes her hair. After revealing something she's kept to herself for a very long time, her friendship with Wendy begins to fade as quickly as the cheap boxed haircolor.One-sided Bendy. Written for the South Park drabble bomb - day 3, fade.





	M32 Violet Soft Black

To say that her mother was disappointed when she decided to dye her hair would be the understatement of the century.

“Your hair is so _beautiful,_  Bebe! It's a _gift!_ What is everybody at school going to think?” Her mother was blocking the bathroom doorway, absolutely livid, wringing the corner of her sweater in her hands. “What is _Clyde_ going to think?”

Bebe glared. “How many times do I have to tell you, mom? Clyde isn’t my boyfriend.”

“You two spend an awful lot of time together if he isn’t!” Her brows were square over her narrowed eyes, nostrils flared. Bebe wouldn’t have been surprised if her mother started blowing smoke out of her nose. “It’s not going to look good! It’s too dark. And what about _cheer?_  People are going to think you’re a -”

 _“Mom_ , it’s just hair! It's dead tissue!” she screeched, quoting Wendy, who was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, face in her phone, pretending that she wasn't witness to the argument happening right in front of her. “I'm sixteen! I can do what I _want_ , quit babying me!” She slammed the bathroom door right in her mother’s face. “ _Fuck!_ My mom is such a _bitch!”_

“She's not a bitch,” Wendy replied. “She's just your mom.”

Bebe scoffed. “As if I care what boys think of me, anyway. _God_. And I’m _sick_ of people thinking Clyde and I are together. It’s so annoying.” She ripped the top of both hair dye boxes open, scrutinizing the instructions. “Allergy test? Whatever. I’m not doing an allergy test,” she said, pulling on a pair of gloves and shaking a smaller bottle into another one, her nostrils hit by the acrid chemical aroma.

“Clyde likes you, though.” Wendy joined her at the bathroom counter, repeating Bebe’s actions with the other box. “So I’ll get the back, and you do the front, okay?”

Bebe had to fight the urge to snap at her friend. She _knew_ Clyde liked her. Hell, Clyde even knew that she knew, but it didn’t mean anything, and never would. “Sure. Careful, my hair gets matted pretty easy. And Clyde and I are just friends.”

Wendy laughed. “I don’t get it! You tell me everything, but you’re still keeping up this _just friends_ charade with him.”

“Ugh. Just... don’t.” _I’m a raging lesbian, Wendy, and Clyde knows. Get a clue,_ she wanted to say as she separated her hair into sections, brushing dye from root to tip, the scent stinging her eyes.

“Whatever you say, Bebe,” chirped Wendy. It was so gentle, how she divided and combed Bebe’s hair, a smile on her face; Bebe was trying her best to not lean into the touch, to refrain from staring at her best friend in the mirror as she worked, but she just couldn’t _help_ it. It wasn’t unusual for them to touch, play with each other’s hair, even cuddle - they’d been best friends forever, after all - but, it was starting to _hurt_ every time. It was a full-body heartache, and Bebe could no longer ignore that. They continued until her head was saturated with color, hair piled atop her head in a dark purple cloud of curls, and then they waited, perched on the bathroom counter, laughing at Youtube videos. Part of Bebe’s mind hoped Wendy noticed their thighs were touching.

She’d rinsed, and dried, and faced her new self in the mirror. It was definitely… different. “ _Huh._ It looks like a wig. Maybe this _was_ stupid.” Bebe stared at her reflection. Her hair was darker and less purple than she’d anticipated, a shining night sky of long curls. “I guess I could cut it off.”

“No, I like it! It's cool. You look fucking badass. Halloween is coming up, anyway. You get to be somebody else on Halloween,” Wendy stated with a sparkling smile. “Why not get an early start? You're really pretty like this, Bebe.”

Bebe tried to ignore the sensation of her heart in her throat. She’d been somebody she was not her entire life. “Yeah? Thanks.”

“Hell yeah! Gorgeous.”

Wendy was close enough behind her that Bebe could feel it, a static energy shocking itself up her spine, and she turned around. She wasn’t thinking, she didn’t know why she did it, but she had to _do it,_ it was the time, now or never, and she pressed her lips against Wendy’s.

She didn’t kiss back, or protest. She just _stood_ there, staring, blinking, and that was worse than any outcome Bebe ever could have imagined.

Bebe, wanting to disappear into the floor, could not meet her eyes. “So, um... Have you written that paper on Catcher in the Rye yet?”

She had. They didn’t talk about the kiss.

* * *

 

The reaction at school was exactly what she’d hoped - dropped jaws, stares, and whispers. She sat at her usual table, for the first few days, trying to proceed as normal until it was just too much to bear.

Everything felt different, like their friendship was a weak shadow of what it had once been. She ignored Wendy when she asked about movie night. When she wanted her to meet up after cheering at the football game. Even when she sent a crying emoji. It wasn’t the same; she couldn’t look at her best friend without her face burning, her eyes stinging and stomach flipping.

Clyde was the only person she told about the kiss, and when he frowned, it hurt her even more. He knew how it felt to love somebody who would never love you back, and it was all her fault.

Each time she washed her hair, it bled violet.

* * *

 

“Honey, Wendy is here.” Bebe’s mom opened her bedroom door, Wendy in her scarf and coat behind her, a dusting of snow on her hair.

 _Tell her to leave,_ she thought, but said. “Okay. What’s up?”

“Oh, I was just coming by to see if you can help me with this English thing,” she said casually, tossing out a _thanks, Mrs. Stevens_ , as her mom closed the door behind her.

Just like she had every other time she was over, like it was _normal_ , she tossed her coat onto the back of Bebe’s desk chair. “Hey.” She sat, not on the bed next to Bebe as she usually did, but on the same chair where she threw her coat.

Bebe was playing with a loose thread on her comforter, trying to think of something, anything to say, and coming up with nothing other than, "Why are you really here?"

Wendy's face was just so sad; seeing her like that was another barb through Bebe's heart. “Why won’t you talk to me? This really isn’t like you. You haven’t answered _any_ of my texts, and when I see you in school it’s like you’re not even… there. It’s like you’re drifting away. I miss you,” she said.

Bebe yanked on the thread. “You know why,” she stated, softly.

Wendy let out a humorless laugh, and played on her phone as the silence of the room crushed down upon them.

“Bebe...why did you kiss me?” She asked, after a while, and it took just as long for Bebe to think of an answer as she played with a long curl of her hair, noticing the split ends, the way the color had dulled over the last few weeks. “Bebe.” Wendy’s voice was firm, and kind. “Are you...”

Her eyes darted up to meet Wendy’s, which were all concern and kindness. She still didn't respond.

“It's okay if you are. You don’t have to be embarrassed! You know I couldn’t care less about that. You're my best friend,” she said. “And… I’m kind of… I mean, I'm not a _lesbian_ , but… I don’t know if I’m _straight_ , really, or if I’m...” It was very rare that Wendy couldn't find the right words to use.

“Bisexual,” Bebe mumbled at the floor. “Or...something.”

“Or something. Maybe. I don't really know. Maybe I’m not. I’m still figuring it out. But, Bebe…” she sighed. “I'm still with Stan, you know?”

That stung worse than anything. So what if she might like girls? She just didn’t want _her._  She wanted Stan, and always would. Wendy had seen her cry so many times, but not today, she couldn’t allow that to happen.

“I know. I think I'm gay, Wendy,” she whispered, her cheeks burning.

“It's _okay_ ,” Wendy repeated. “I _swear._ I promise it won't change anything, I don't even care that you kissed me; I mean, I'm your best friend and it's totally normal that you tried it with-”

“I'm in love with you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Is _that_ going to change anything?” She hated how pathetic, how _hopeful_ she sounded.

“No, of course not, you're my-”

 _“-best friend,_ ” Bebe finished for her, bitterly, feeling as if her stomach had dropped out. “I know. Just… go home, Wendy.”

Wendy looked like she’d been slapped. “I’m really sorry! I just don’t-”

“ _Go. Home,”_ repeated Bebe. “Just _leave._ ”

Wendy rose. “You know, I don’t understand why….” She paused, and looked like she was about to cry. “Fine. _Fine_. I’ll _leave_ , if that’s what you want.” Without eye contact, she threw on her scarf and coat, not bothering to button it, and she was out the door.

* * *

 

Bebe’s hair was a faded red-violet, and the emerging baby curls at the front of her scalp were twisting locks of blonde. She sat alone, feeling like a ghost, staring at her lunch tray and pushing a green bean into her mashed potatoes, unable to bring herself to eat any of it. She tried not to dart her eyes to Stan and Wendy, holding hands, laughing.

She didn't know when they would speak again.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I don't even know. I just like writing sad things. I sort of want to make this into a longer, more in-character story where they actually get together because I loves me some Bendy.
> 
> [tumblr link](http://tweektuckermotherfckr.tumblr.com) if you're into that.


End file.
